


it comes and goes in waves (and carries us away)

by groundkei



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Bokuto Koutarou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Divorce, Domestic, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Omega Akaashi Keiji, Pregnancy, Sad, impled atsukagehina, married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groundkei/pseuds/groundkei
Summary: He wants their child to look just like him.A kid with golden eyes and a smile so bright it could rival the sun. He wants their kid to be as strong as Bokuto, as fearless as Bokuto, and as kind as Bokuto – he wants their child to grow up with nothing but kindness in his veins, with nothing but a courageous soul and a heart of gold.(or, bokuto and akaashi’s journey to parenthood as a married couple)
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 30
Kudos: 173





	it comes and goes in waves (and carries us away)

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve had this idea for a while now but i didn’t know which ship i should write it for. i was initially planning on giving this to tsukkiyama but i couldn’t bear to hurt my comfort ship so i opted for bokuaka instead :D i hope you like this one! you can leave a comment if you want! 
> 
> ps. please read the tags
> 
> \- sab

“I’m home,” Akaashi calls out as he hangs his coat against the rack, his soft sigh reverberating through the apartment’s entrance, a sudden quietness looming over his head. He sets aside his shoes carefully, straightening Bokuto’s favorite pair in the process as well as he listens to a faint yet familiar snore coming from the living room, the familiar scent of ground coffee lingering under his nose.

 _Bokuto-san must have fell asleep,_ he thinks to himself as he makes his way into their living room, his feet gliding across the tiled floor of their house. He sets down the plastic bag he’s holding onto the small wooden table and finds his husband passed out on the couch, his mouth parted slightly with just a little bit of drool pooling at the side of his mouth. The television is playing some sort of commercial about a new brand of curry powder. Sighing, he takes the remote tucked in between Bokuto’s arms and turns off the television.

He crouches down beside him. “Bokuto-san,” he calls out softly, Bokuto’s scent wrapping around him like a thick blanket. “I bought dinner.”

Bokuto starts to stir in his sleep, mumbling Akaashi’s name under his breath. Akaashi notices him still wearing his MSBY Jackals jacket and decides to shake him lightly on his shoulders.

“Bokuto-san,” he calls again.

Bokuto’s eyes slowly fluttered open, blinking once, twice, before adjusting his gaze onto the familiar figure crouching in front of him. A smile makes its way onto his lips. “Hello,” he mutters, voice still rough from sleep. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi smiles and presses a soft kiss on top of his forehead. “You should change your clothes first while I prepare our dinner.”

“You’re going to cook?” Bokuto asks as he sits up carefully, his muscles sore and aching from his training.

Akaashi shakes his head. “I bought take out. Would that be alright with you?”

“Of course,” Bokuto nods before pressing a quick kiss on his husband's lips, inhaling a bit of his cinnamon scent. “I’ll be right back,” he says, grunting as he leaves the couch and heads to where their bedroom is.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

“Okay!”

With a smile, Akaashi makes his way towards the kitchen, grabbing the plastic bag along his way as he lazily struts around the place.

Comforting silence falls over the whole apartment like a thick blanket, and Akaashi finds himself quietly humming a familiar tune under his breath as he pulls out a few plates from the cabinets to prepare their food. Contrary to what most think, living with Bokuto is – more often than not – filled only with quiet laughter and hushed whispers behind closed doors. Everything is peaceful. Serene, even, if you will, and Akaashi finds their silence comforting. Only he gets to see Bokuto in all of his glory; only he gets to see his husband as the person he really is and not as the ace most people know.

Perhaps, it is one of the reasons why marrying him at such a young age never really became a problem to him.

Bokuto, in a sense, is exactly like the scent of ground coffee. He is like the early mornings – of new beginnings and second chances. He is an abundance of quietude and the epitome of purity. Akaashi knows that more than he knows himself.

“How was work?” Bokuto asks upon entering the kitchen. He now wore a baby blue t-shirt that hung loosely against his shoulders, his damp hair hovering over his eyelashes.

Akaashi smiles at him. “It was fine,” he tells him before turning back to the food he’s preparing. “We’re currently in the final process of editing Udai-san's work.”

“Mhm,” Bokuto approaches him from behind, firmly wrapping his arms around Akaashi’s waist and holding him close against his chest. He places a soft kiss near his husband’s mark, his warm breath tickling Akaashi’s neck.

Akaashi lifts a hand to thread his fingers through Bokuto’s still damp hair. “You good, love?”

Bokuto nodded once. “Just tired,” he mumbles, unconsciously scenting Akaashi as he pulls him even closer to him. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately.”

Akaashi hums, turning back towards the food. He lets Bokuto rest his chin on his shoulder. “Like what?”

Bokuto doesn’t respond for a while. Instead, he lets himself press closer to Akaashi’s body as though his whole life depended on it. Akaashi raises an eyebrow at his reluctance. What’s wrong?

“Bokuto-san?”

“How do you...” Bokuto trails off. “How do you feel about kids?”

Akaashi stares down at the bowl of soup he just prepared. “Kids?”

“Children, yeah. What do you think of them?”

“I don’t know?” Akaashi shrugs. “They’re fine, I guess. A bit noisy, but they’re fine.”

Bokuto loosens his grip around his husband’s waist. “Do you like them?”

“I haven’t thought of them that much, so I’m not really sure. Why?”

Akaashi turns back to meet his husband’s gaze. Bokuto stared back at him, his shoulders tensed. “Bokuto-san?” he calls, “is everything alright?”

“Keiji...”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about having a child?”

Akaashi blinks up at him. “Like, come over? Have a child come over?”

“With me...” Bokuto trails off. “I meant having a child with me...”

Akaashi blinks once, twice, until he’s lost count of it. Bokuto stares back at him, wide-eyed and seemingly afraid of what is to come next. _Shit,_ he curses to himself quietly, _I knew I shouldn’t have asked that!_

 _“_ N-not that it matters or anything!” Bokuto starts to stammer. “It was just a question, nothing too particular!”

Akaashi bites down on his lower lip. “Do you want to have a baby?”

“Huh?” Bokuto’s eyes widen. He starts to shift on his feet, suddenly growing silent at the question. He can feel Akaashi’s burning stare through his head. “I mean – I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Bokuto sighs and meets Akaashi’s gaze. “Of course, I want to,” he finally admits. “But I’m worried about what you might think. I’m not about to force you into a lifelong decision just because I said so, Ji. I know you want to focus on your career for now, and I don’t want to stop you with that.”

Akaashi turns to face his husband, noticing the change in his scent. He reaches out an arm to him and grabs both of his hands. “Kou,” he calls out to him softly. “Are you really sure about this?”

Bokuto nods at him, muttering a soft _Yes_ under his breath. “Really sure...”

“What about Olympics? We're a few months away from it, love.”

“I can wait!” Bokuto exclaims, eyes lighting up in glee. “We can... We can try after I’m not that busy anymore. Only if it’s alright with you, though.”

“Okay,” Akaashi nods once, a gentle smile making its way onto his lips. “After Olympics, then.”

“R-really?”

“Yes, love,” Akaashi presses his palm against one side of his husband’s face, his thumb gently tracing over his cheek. “I think it’s about time we try, too, you know? Just see how it goes.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto breathes out. “I like the sound of that.”

* * *

Akaashi sighs and removes his pair of glasses from his eyes, the manga panels flashed across his screen staring back at him with menace. His deadlines are looming over his head rapidly, he just needs a little more time before he gets to finish all of his works without tarnishing his record.

Udai Tenma appeared from behind him. “Have you checked the files that I’ve sent you earlier?”

“The initial sketches?” Akaashi turns to him, bags hanging low under his eyes. “I’m already working on it right now.”

“I also sent you an outline. Have you checked them yet?”

Akaashi sighs and turns back to his computer. Udai leans against his junior’s desk, his long and dark hair tied up into a low ponytail, and Akaashi cannot help but to remember Kenma. “When are these due again?”

“Two weeks from now.”

Akaashi lets out a low hum from his throat. “I’m going to finish all of these by next week before the Olympics.”

“Ah, right,” Udai chuckles. “How is your husband doing so far? I heard most of your old friends are in the line-up.”

Akaashi nods once, yawning. “Mostly, yeah. The Freak Duo are there as well.”

Udai tilts his head to the side, seemingly deep in thought. Akaashi turns to look at the omega, his eyebrows furrowing. “Hinata and Kageyama aren’t together still?”

Sighing, Akaashi shakes his head as he thinks of the younger two. “I don’t think they’ll ever come to terms with their feelings considering how they’re mostly apart from each other most of the times. It would probably be too difficult for Kageyama, too.”

“’Mhm, yeah, you’re probably right,” Udai nods in acknowledgement. “What about you? How have you been these past few weeks?”

“Good,” Akaashi tells him. “Just a bit tired. I’ve been visiting the doctor more frequently now.”

“Oh! Why? Are you sick?”

Akaashi bites down on his lower lip, feeling his cheeks heat up as he remembers what he and Bokuto previously talked about. “Bokuto-san and I are planning on trying for a baby...” he trails off quietly.

Udai beams at him. “That’s great! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Akaashi quietly mumbles. “We’ll just have to see what happens next.”

“I’m sure it’ll happen pretty quickly considering how Bokuto-san is,” Udai grins at him and he feels his cheeks heat up more than it already is. “You just have to take care of yourself more from now on. You have to avoid getting stressed out too much.”

Akaashi groans and throws his head back. If it weren’t for the scent dampers installed around their offices, his area would have smelled strongly of cinnamon by now. “How can I not be stressed with this much work, Udai-san?”

Udai laughs at him and pats him on the back. “Just a little bit more, Akaashi-san.”

Later that night, Bokuto comes home to the smell of cinnamon lingering around the apartment. Smiling all to himself, he heads to where their bedroom is and sees his husband slumped over his work desk, lightly snoring against some of his office documents. Bokuto presses a soft kiss on top of his head.

“Akaashi,” he whispers. “Wake up, my love.”

Akaashi starts to groan. “’M tired,” he mumbles against his arm.

“Let’s move you to the bed, then. Come on.”

Bokuto lifts up his husband in his arms with a grunt – the omega burying his face at the crook of his neck – and heads to where the bed is. Gently, he sets him down onto the comforter.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asks him. Akaashi nods once, mumbling something about fruits as his eyelids slowly fluttered close. Bokuto presses another kiss on top of his head before making his way into the bathroom to take a cold shower.

Akaashi wakes up in the middle of the night pressed against his husband’s broad chest. He blinks a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness inside their room. Groaning, he turns on his side and reaches out to turn on the night lamp, his cheek quickly being illuminated by the faint golden light. He feels an arm encircle around his waist, the familiar scent of coffee masking him.

“What time is it?” Bokuto croaks out from behind him.

Akaashi spares a quick glance at the digital clock resting on top of their night stand. “2:32 in the morning,” he says, turning back to face his husband.

Bokuto blinks sleepily. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Akaashi mutters softly, scooting closer to his husband and placing a kiss just below his jaw. He can feel Bokuto’s arm tightening around his waist as he continues to snuggle closer to him. “Go back to sleep, love.”

Bokuto’s hand starts to travel down Akaashi’s waist. He leans down to capture his lips in a kiss, eyes fluttering ever so lighly under the dim lights. Akaashi slowly turns on his back, resting both of his hands on either side of his husband’s arms as he parts his mouth slightly, letting him hover over him for a short while. They continue to press soft kisses against each other, letting out smiles and giggles every now and then. At some point, Akaashi finds himself straddling Bokuto’s thighs.

He pulls away from him, hands resting on top of Bokuto’s shoulders. “Don’t you have practice this morning?”

“It’s fine,” Bokuto grins, his golden eyes illuminated by the soft light coming from the night lamp. Akaashi gently threads his fingers through his husband’s hair, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I’m sure coach wouldn’t mind.”

Akaashi smiles, and he leans down again for another kiss.

Hinata jogs over to Akaashi, his forehead and neck covered with a thin layer of sweat. “Akaashi senpai!”

Akaashi gives him a timid smile. “Hinata,” he greets back, the familiar smell of the gym mixed with the strong scents running under his nose obnoxiously. The scent dampers are probably running out within the place, he thinks to himself. “Where’s Bokuto-san?”

The beta flashes him a toothy grin and points at a nearby court. He quickly spots Kageyama doing spike drills with Ushijima at one side while both Yaku and Bokuto tries to receive the flying balls on the other. Miya Atsumu is standing by near the bench with a water bottle in his hand while Sakusa Kiyoomi sits on the floor, stretching his wrists, while their team captain speaks.

“Are you here to have lunch with him?” Hinata asks as the two of them walk towards where the national team is.

“Ah, no,” Akaashi shakes his head. “I’m just here to drop off his food.”

From the court, Kageyama stops tossing the ball, staring pointedly at the two of them. Akaashi notices him saying something to his teammates, prompting Bokuto to turn around, a huge smile plastered across his face with a few strands of his hair already falling over his eyes from sweating too much.

“Akaashi!” he bellows, earning a few stares from the staff. Akaashi feels his cheeks heat up.

“I brought you your lunch...”

“God, I hope someone would do that for me,” Atsumu comments. “I’m so tired of eating Samu’s dishes.”

“Why are you so ungrateful?” Sakusa retorts, rolling his eyes at him. “Just cook for yourself or get married.”

Akaashi spares Hinata a glance and sees him blushing profusely at the mention of marriage while Kageyama glares at Atsumu for a short while. He wonders if there’s a conflict between the three of them. Not that it’s his business, anyway.

Bokuto chuckles before pulling Akaashi away from the small crowd. “Thank you for this,” he smiles at him. Ushijima walks past them, greeting Akaashi quietly as well.

“Will you be home late?”

“Mm, yeah. We’re a few days away from the games, so I might come home later than usual. Don’t stay up late to wait for me.”

Akaashi nods at him. “Okay,” he says. “You have your keys with you, right?”

“Of course!”

It was raining heavily later that afternoon just as his shift ended a bit earlier than usual. Sighing, he decides to go to the mall near his workplace while waiting for the rain to subside.

His mini trip was quiet and somehow peaceful, which made him a bit glad since it has been a while since he got to spend some time alone. He got to buy a few new clothes for him and Bokuto, although he was a bit reluctant with the sizes at first since Bokuto’s muscles are making his physique grow larger than usual. He even got to stop by a newly opened records store, checking out a few of their new releases in case he sees something he likes. Perhaps, he should buy a phonograph soon? That would be nice.

At one point, as he walks past the men’s clothing aisle, he finds himself lingering around the baby section longer than he had anticipated. He stares at the set of baby pink clothes in front of him, wondering how babies are so _tiny_ they could fit into those small fabrics.

“Are you looking for anything in particular, Sir?” a woman, probably a saleslady, approaches him with a smile. He smells the faint scent of strawberry on her. An omega.

Akaashi shakes his head, feeling his cheeks grow warm from embarrassment. “Uh, no, thank you. I’m just here to look around...”

“Alright,” the woman flashes a smile. “Let us know if you need anything. Cribs, baby supplies, anything.”

Akaashi nods at her before swiftly turning his back against her. He spares another look at the baby pink clothes, and he faintly registers an image of a dark-haired child with golden eyes wearing them. The thought made his chest stutter.

His and Bokuto’s child.

Sighing, he leaves the place and quietly smiles to himself.

* * *

“How have you been, Akaashi?” Yukie smiles upon seeing him, her long hair up in a tight bun.Akaashi greets her timidly as the two of them settles down the table by the window.

“I’m good. A bit busy with work and all,” Akaashi smiles at her. “What about you? It’s been a while since we’ve all last seen each other.”

“I’m doing great!" She beams, straightening her clothes. “How’s Bokuto-san? I hope he’s not taking Japan’s loss that badly.”

“Ah,” Akaashi scrunches his nose in displeasure. “It wasn’t that bad, but the whole team’s mood definitely affected our home for a few days.”

Just thinking about the previous game made him squirm in his seat in discomfort. Of course, Japan’s loss against Argentina affected Bokuto greatly – they represented their country, who wouldn’t want to win? But with Oikawa Tooru’s monster serves and sharp tosses accompanied by his team’s power and skill, it was really difficult to get by. They managed to close the gap during the final set, but their attempts were still considered as futile with how prepared the Argentinian team seemed to be in receiving Kageyama and Hinata’s quick attacks. Even Ushijima’s spikes managed to get blocked twice which was a surprise to everyone, and while Sakusa’s service aces gave them a few extra points to stall the game, it still ended on Argentina’s favour much to their demise.

“But he’s doing okay now.”

“That’s good to hear, then!”

One of the waiters comes up to them with their orders, and while Yukie was pre-occupied with ogling the food on their table, Akaashi took the chance to drop his question.

“Yukie-san,” he calls to her carefully. “What types of food increases, uhm, fertility?”

“Fertility?” Yukie looks up from her food, her eyebrows furrowing. “Well, for starters, leafy green vegetables are usually the most common ones. Anything rich in plant-based protein can improve ovulation, but not protein shakes! Definitely not protein shakes. There are also a lot of supplements that could help with conceiving, but you might need to see a doctor for that one.”

“Ah...”

Yukie raises an eyebrow at him. “Why? Are you and Bokuto-san trying to conceive?”

Akaashi nods slowly. “Something like that...”

“Hm! It’s about time! How old are you now? Twenty-seven? It’s the best time for you to get pregnant!”

A few heads turn towards their direction, and Akaashi cannot help but to shift on his seat, his cheeks reddening at the attention. “Yukie-san...”

“Sorry, sorry,” she chuckles. “But it’s true. You two should do it while it’s still early. With Bokuto-san's energy, I’m sure it’s bound to happen sooner or later. Is your heat coming soon?”

“Uhm, about a week from now?”

“There you go!” she grins widely at him. “About a month from now, I’m sure you’ll be seeing something positive.”

Akaashi grunts. “I need to fix my diet as soon as possible...”

“As long as you eat healthy, you don’t have anything much to worry about. Although you should still see a doctor to track your cycle and everything.”

Akaashi nods and quietly thanks her.

When Bokuto gets home later that night, he was...surprised, to say the least.

“What are you doing?” he asks upon seeing his husband filling out their pantry with newly bought groceries. Akaashi’s cinnamon scent wafted thickly through the air.

“Sorting out our food.”

“But we still have some to last us for the week?” Bokuto tilts his head to the side before removing his MSBY Jackals jacket. “What’s with all of these?”

Akaashi pulls out a bag of assorted beans. “These are all mine.”

“Excuse me?” Bokuto blinks at him. “Why?”

“Because,” Akaashi turns to look at his husband through his eyeglasses, “these will help me in the long run.”

Bokuto furrows his eyebrows in confusion as he continues to watch Akaashi sort through their small pantry. He walks up to him quietly and starts to wrap his arms around his waist. “Help you with what?”

Akaashi bites his lower lip. “Getting pregnant.”

It took a few seconds before Bokuto registered what his husband had just said. “Pregnant?” he repeats, eyes widening slightly in shock. Why is he so surprised?

Akaashi hums and turns to face him. “My heat will arrive probably around next week. For the mean time, I have to adjust my schedule and prepare-”

“W-wait, Ji, we’re really going to try?”

“Don’t you want to?” Akaashi raises an eyebrow at him.

“Of course, I do!” Bokuto’s golden eyes are wide and expectant, and Akaashi cannot help but to let a smile grace over his lips at the sight. “But I don’t know what to do...”

Akaashi snorts at him. “Oh, you’ll be a big help once my heat arrives.”

A blush makes its way onto Bokuto’s cheeks, and he wraps his arms tighter around his husband’s waist, inhaling his scent as he masks him with his own. Akaashi can feel his mark throb while Bokuto nuzzles his nose onto it.

“Can I help you tonight as well?” he smiles cheekily, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Akaashi rolls his eyes and gently removes his husband’s arms around his waist.

“Help me with these first.”

“Oh!”

Akaashi then finds himself staring at their room’s ceiling around midnight, a few strands of his hair clinging onto his damp forehead. Bokuto snores quietly by his side, one arm slung over his husband’s waist protectively with their scent mingling in the air. He continues to watch the dim light coming from their night lamp illuminate the corners of their rooms ceiling as he starts to get lost in his thought.

The idea of having a child – a child with _Kouutarou –_ makes his heart swell with a newfound happiness he never thought would exist. Parenthood had never been an issue to him, but the idea never came to him up until Bokuto asked about it one night. The thought terrifies him just as much as it excites him. How would he be as a parent? Would the child inherit Bokuto’s golden eyes? He hopes they would.

Sighing, he turns on his side and quietly marvels at his husband’s peaceful face. He gently traces his index finger along his jaw and onto his neck, careful as to not press onto the purple bruises decorating the skin. He flushes at the sight, thinking just how beautiful Bokuto is under the dim lights of their room.

He wants their child to look just like him.

A kid with golden eyes and a smile so bright it could rival the sun. He wants their kid to be as strong as Bokuto, as fearless as Bokuto, and as kind as Bokuto – he wants their child to grow up with nothing but kindness in his veins, with nothing but a courageous soul and a heart of gold.

Bokuto stirs lightly in his sleep, his eyelids slowly fluttering open as he tightens his grip around Akaashi, their legs intertwined under the thick blakets. Bokuto’s skin is warm against his.

“What’s wrong?”

Akaashi lets out a soft sigh, “Nothing,” he tells him. “Go back to sleep.”

Bokuto hums and scoots closer to him, their naked bodies all but a void of space. Akaashi presses a kiss against his husband’s collarbone, letting his lips hover over the marks from their previous lovemaking. The bite marks on his shoulders throbbed lightly as well.

“I love you,” Bokuto mumbles against Akaashi’s hair.

“I know.”

* * *

Negative.

Akaashi has endured many failures in his life. Failures in school, failures in volleyball, in his career, and sometimes even in his marriage. Failure, to him, is nothing but an old friend. He is already familiar with failure – already familiar with the rise and fall of his hopes, familiar with the way odds will sometimes not be in his favour. Failure is not something new to him; it is certainly not a stranger in his life, so why does it hurt now?

He stares at the line quietly, his eyes blank and unmoving, a few strands of his dark hair falling onto his eyes ever so lightly as his reflection in the mirror mocked him and taunted him. He shouldn’t have had his hopes up.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto calls from outside. “How is it? Are you okay?”

Akaashi blinks once, twice. Fresh tears started to form at the base of his eyes, frustration bubbling up inside of him. Why are they all _negative?_

 _“_ Akaashi?” Bokuto knocks on the bathroom door, his voice muffled. “I’m coming in, okay?”

Sighing, Akaashi blinks away his tears just as the door opened, revealing a worried Bokuto with his hair down, a frown resting upon his lips. His golden eyes shone under the bathroom lights.

“How is it?” he gently asks.

Akaashi slowly shakes his head and forces out a smile. Bokuto’s shoulders fell, and the sight made Akaashi’s stomach churn. It hurt seeing Bokuto hurt.

“Negative...” he trails off.

“A-all of them?”

Akaashi nods before turning back to look at the abundance of pregnancy tests resting on top of their sink. Seeing the faint lines made him clench his jaw. Negative. All of them.

“Sorry,” he mutters under his breath as he runs a hand over his dishevelled hair.

Bokuto approaches him from behind. “Why are you saying sorry? It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, but,” Akaashi lets out a frustrated sigh and gestures at the pregnancy tests. Bokuto buries his nose into his husband’s neck, scenting him quietly. “I did everything I could, Kou!”

“It’s not your fault, love.”

“I even changed my fucking diet and did all those stupid exercises for _nothing_!”

“We can still try,” Bokuto lifts his head and meets Akaashi’s pained eyes in the mirror. His golden eyes suddenly look duller compared to earlier, and Akaashi wonders if he’s hurting just as much as well. Of course, he is. “There’s still plenty of chances for us, right?”

“Right...” Akaashi sighs. “’I shouldn’t have expected anything in the first try.”

“We can still keep trying. Don’t worry about it.”

When three months passed, and all they got were disappointments after disappointments, the two of them had decided to get themselves checked by a professional just in case they were doing anything wrong. Usually, an alpha and an omega couple wouldn’t have any problems in conceiving, but after multiple tries – all of which failed – and countless of sleepless night just to be in sync with Akaashi’s ovulation, the two have found themselves becoming more stressed rather than enjoying the process. It made them anxious of what was to come.

“Your sperm count is completely normal for an alpha,” the ob-gyne tells Bokuto as she reads off of one of her files. “Your vitals and statistics are all normal, you don’t have to be worried about anything for now.”

“What could be the issue, then?” Bokuto asks, his eyebrows furrowing. If everything is perfectly normal, then why can’t they conceive?

“Well,” the doctor sighs before turning to look at Akaashi. The omega can feel his feet growing colder, his fists clenching on his lap as he anticipated what she’s about to say, “sometimes there are certain irregularities in our bodies that we cannot prevent which can result to difficulty in conceiving. From the previous tests that we’ve ran, it seems like your uterus is irregularly shaped and much smaller than other normal male omegas. It’s difficult for fertilised eggs to attach onto your uterine wall which can lead to low chances of getting pregnant and higher chances of miscarriage once you do get pregnant.”

Akaashi cannot seem to process her words. Bokuto spares a quick glance at his husband, one hand reaching out to squeeze his thigh. “Is it dangerous?”

The doctor shakes her head. “Not really,” she tells him. “Having an irregularly shaped uterus isn’t risky per se, but it does affect the chances of getting pregnant. Akaashi-san is perfectly healthy, and his fertility isn’t affected at all, but the problem lies within his body and its inability to currently conceive. It’s not impossible for you two to get pregnant, but the chances of repercussions are much higher than other couples.”

“Are there anything we can do for now?” Bokuto asks, noticing Akaashi’s growing silence.

“Just keep trying for now. I can prescribe you two some vitamins and supplements, but all you can primarily do for now is wait and continue trying.”

“Ah,” Bokuto visibly deflates on his chair. “Thank you...”

The ride home is eerily silent and cold. Akaashi lets out another sigh and rests his head against the headrest of his seat, his lips pursing into a thin line. Bokuto notices the change in his scent and reaches out a hand to hold his knee.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” Akaashi continues to stare out the window. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Are you hungry? Do you want to eat first before we head home?”

“’M not hungry...”

“Okay,” Bokuto sighs. “Okay, then.”

When they arrive home, Akaashi heads straight to their room without another word, and all Bokuto does is watch as his husband wordlessly goes under the blankets without even changing his clothes. Bokuto doesn’t say a word; all he does is quietly pad his way through their room and into the bathroom, clean clothes in his hands. He takes a shower quietly, letting the boulder of guilt wash through him as he stands unmoving under the steaming hot water, and even when the water turns cold enough for his teeth to chatter, he stays there quietly until the feeling of loneliness has subsided. He changes his clothes quietly and lets a few droplets of water fall onto his shoulders from his damp hair, silently watching his reflection in the foggy mirror with nothing but heavy golden eyes.

He stays quiet when he exits the bathroom, and he still stays quiet as he turns off the lights inside their room. He doesn’t open their night lamp; instead, he silently goes under the covers that smelled strongly of cinnamon and coffee, and he just lays there with his wide and curious eyes staring up the ceiling in nothing but a plethora of questions running through his mind. He stays quiet through it all – the darkness of the room looming over him as he turns to his side to meet Akaashi’s gunmetal blue eyes.

“Hey,” he tries to smile at him.

“Hey...”

With a heavy sigh, Bokuto wraps his arms around his husband shoulders to try and comfort him, pulling him closer to his chest as he tries to take his pain away, to take his burden away and let him shoulder the rest. It hurts seeing Akaashi hurt.

He stays quiet when he feels Akaashi’s tears burn right through his clothes.

Bokuto knows his husband is blaming himself.

He stares at the court in front of him, the figures a blur of motion as he sits on the bench with his elbows propped onto his knees. Miya Atsumu stands beside him, a clean towel draped over his shoulders while he lazily watches the practice match in front.

“You okay, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto blinks once, turning his head to look at the beta. Atsumu’s very faint scent of sandalwood ran under his nose. “Yeah,” he blinks again. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Atsumu takes the seat beside him. “You’ve been quiet these past few days.”

“Ah, really?” Bokuto chuckles and lets his gaze falter. “I guess I’m just a bit pre-occupied right now.”

Atsumu hums in understanding, deciding not to ask any further questions to avoid looking like a nosy prick. Bokuto continues to watch the practice match in front, his eyes fixated on the ball that went right over the net before slamming onto the floor.

“How’s your brother?” he asks. “We haven’t been seeing him a lot in our matches.”

“Eh, he’s busy with his kid,” Atsumu shrugs. “Suna also wanted him to rest for a bit and focus on their daughter before coming back to manage Onigiri Miya again.”

Bokuto lowers his gaze onto the ground. “How old is your niece?”

“Almost a year old now, I think? She’s starting to look more like Samu and I,” Atasumu snorts. “Although she definitely is more like Suna.”

Bokuto wonders briefly if his and Akaashi’s child would be more like him or Akaashi. Would their child have Akaashi’s ocean eyes and dark hair? The thought of seeing a mini version of his husband makes his heart ache in every way possible.

A family with Akaashi. The idea seems so far away.

“What about you, Bokuto-san? Got any plans?”

Bokuto turns to look at him, a small smile tugging at th corner of his lips. “We’re still trying.”

Atsumu grins at him. “Ah, that’s great! I’m sure it’ll come soon.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto mutters. “Hopefully...”

He gets home to an empty apartment later that night, the faint smell of cinnamon lingering around the place. Sighing, he makes his way into the living room, shoulders sagging at the misplaced silence that hung over their home. He sees a note left on top of the small coffee table and silently picks it up.

“ _Went out for a run. Be back soon. Food is in the fridge. Love you. -Keiji”_

Bokuto shakes his head, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. _I’m going to take a shower_ , he thinks to himself.

He hears the door to their bedroom open after about half an hour of being under the water, figuring Akaashi already returned from his run. After getting dressing himself up into a fresh set of clothes, he comes out of the bathroom only to see his husband sitting at the edge of their bed. He pads quietly over to him, a clean towel slung over his shoulders as he continues to dry his damp hair.

“Hey, love,” he says, taking a seat beside Akaashi. “How was work?”

“Good,” Akaashi doesn’t meet his eyes. “I finished some of my deadlines today.”

“That’s great.”

Silence. Bokuto starts to shift on his spot, unfamiliar with the way the two of them danced around each other as though in flames. He reaches out a hand to hold Akaashi’s fingers.

“Are you alright?” he whispers. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Mhm,” Akaashi starts to play with Bokuto’s hand. “I’m good.”

“Ji?”

“Yeah?”

“You know that I’ll always love you no matter what, right?”

Akaashi bites his lower lip, sighing. “I know,” he mutters.

“You don’t have to blame yourself...”

Akaashi turns to meet his husband’s eyes. Bokuto sees an ocean. “I’m sorry...”

“For what?”

The omega shrugs, a frown making its way onto his lips. “For being like this.”

“Ji,” Bokuto sighs. “It’s alright to feel that way.”

Akaashi nods despite looking like he doesn’t believe his husbands words. “Sorry...”

“Stop apologizing!” Bokuto starts to nuzzle his nose into Akaashi’s neck. “It’s not your fault.”

“But Kou-”

Bokuto lifts his head to meet Akaashi’s eyes, his gaze hard and indignant. Golden eyes meet the ocean – a sight only for them to see. “Ji, it doesn’t make you less of a person if you can’t bear a child. I’ll still love you the same, maybe even more.”

Akaashi bites down on his lower lip. “I know,” he whispers.

“We can always keep on trying. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, then it’s fine! As long as you’re with me, everything will be fine, Ji.”

Akaashi feels a lump forming at the back of his throat, his words hanging at the edge of his tongue as he feels tears brimming at both sides of his eyes. He wants to have a family with Koutarou.

“I’ll always put you first,” Bokuto presses three soft kisses on top of his husband’s head. _I love you. “_ No matter what happens, as long as I’m with you.”

* * *

It happened when rain first pelted against their room’s window pane, the muffled sound of heavy droplets of water cascading down the glass filling their apartment with nothing but the comfort of clouds looming over their heads. Akaashi remembers looking up at the gray skies from their bathroom, his hands shaking ever so lightly as he waits for the results to come out. This isn’t his first time using his pregnancy test. He’s already become familiar of the routine. But this, this is the first time he truly felt terrified.

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He’s already tired of it, tired of seeing one straight line instead of two. Bokuto keeps on telling him that it was fine, but he knows his husband more than himself, and he knows for a fact that Bokuto wants to have a family just as much as he does.

When he started to feel the symptoms the previous week, he brushed them off by thinking his heat is about to arrive. He remembers marking it on his calendar, but when more than a week already passed and his heat never visited him, he started to have suspicions.

Could he be pregnant?

Akaashi bites down on his lower lip, his ocean eyes hard and indignant on the multiple sticks resting on top of the bathroom sink. Five minutes have already passed. He should probably check on them now, but the dread of being disappointed is holding him back.

 _It’s fine,_ he quietly tells himself. _We can still try next time._

Sighing, he grabs one of the pregnancy sticks and takes a swift look at it.

“I’m home!” Bokuto announces from the door way. “Akaashi?”

“In here!”

Bokuto finds his husband in the kitchen, sorting out their groceries _again._ There’s a faint blush dusting over his cheeks as he continues to hum a familiar tune all by himself. His cinnamon scent clung thickly onto the air around him, and Bokuto almost felt lightheaded at the familiar aroma.

“What are you doing?” he asks when he notices Akaashi putting away some of their instant coffee.

“I’m putting away everything that’s not allowed for me to consume,” Akaashi turns to him, holding out two bags of chips. “Are these yours?”

“I... I think so?” Bokuto spares a quick glance at the table where everything is being piled up. Is that the bottle of wine he got from their coach? “Wait, Akaashi, why are you putting all of these away? It’s too much of a waste!”

“Hm?” Akaashi turns to him. “It won’t be good for the baby, Kou.”

“Eh?” Bokuto blinks at him, oblivious. “What baby? We don’t have a baby.”

Akaashi pointedly stares at him. Bokuto blinks again. Once, twice.

“Kou,” Akaashi calls, as softly as he could muster. “I’m pregnant.”

* * *

At six weeks, staying sane is probably the last thing in Akaashi’s mind. With his deadlines creeping up to him in the latest of nights and his morning sickness greeting him at the earliest of mornings, staying calm and collected is probably one of the last things on his list as of now. He feels _irritated,_ he feels _agitated,_ and he can’t seem to just stay put and focus on one thing with the constant headaches and nausea lurking behind him. Is pregnancy really this difficult?

Bokuto – thank the gods for him – tries his best to stay by his husband’s side. Seeing Akaashi in such a state every single day feels like he is being tormented as well, and it makes him think if he did the right thing of asking for a child. Akaashi looks more tired now compared to the previous nights they have shared, and Bokuto certainly notices the quiet sighs that are now more prominent in their households and the often empty side of the bed in the middle of the night, the lights to their bathroom open.

 _I’m fine,_ Akaashi always tells him whenever he voices out his concerns, _you don’t have to worry about me._

Still, Bokuto cannot help but to worry for his _husband._ Every missed serves and every missed spikes during training are mostly due to the fact that he is, more often than not, pre-occupied with Akaashi’s state. How is he doing with work? Is he stressed out? Maybe he should take a leave soon and focus on himself and the baby first.

But Bokuto knows Akaashi isnt that kind of person. Akaashi may now look more tired than ever, but the subtle smiles that grace his lips whenever the two of them are alone, the slight glint in his eyes whenever they talk about turning their storage room into a baby room, and the quiet laughter that the two of them share while thinking about how they’re going to play with their child once they arrive makes up for the fact that the two of them are slightly lost amidst their journey to parenthood.

“What about gray?”

Akaashi tilts his head to the side, his cheek resting against his husband’s broad chest. “Wouldn’t it be too dark for a baby’s room?”

“We can make it as the accent color! And then white for the furnitures and other decorations. What do you think?” Bokuto grins at him, his golden eyes gleaming under the dim lights of their own room.

“It’ll look like your hair,” Akaashi chuckles, reaching out to take a few strands of Bokuto’s hair. “What about golden yellow? Like your eyes.”

“Mm,” Bokuto raises an eyebrow at him. “What about the color of the ocean?” he grins, staring deeply into Akaashi’s eyes. Golden ones meet the ocean.

“Yellow is better.”

 _No,_ Bokuto thinks, _the ocean is definitely better._

 _“_ Or we can always go with white,” Akaashi shrugs. “It’ll look clean.”

Bokuto makes a face at him. “That’s too plain!”

“It’s one of the safest options.”

“Let’s go with yellow, then.”

They start to decorate the room when Akaashi is 10 weeks in. They had some of their friends come over to their apartment to help with all the lifting and painting while Akaashi stays unbothered with the whole process. He still helped with sorting out some of their old belongings, but Bokuto made sure he wouldn’t have to do anything that could harm him.

Tsukishima, who is visiting Tokyo with Yamaguchi for the week, glances at him, holding a box full of old clothes, his scent of peppermint masking the air while his boyfriend trails behind him. “Where do you want these to be put, Akaashi-san?”

“Ah!” Akaashi looks up from his laptop. “Just put it over there!”

Yamaguchi walks up to him with a smile. “Isn’t it still a bit early to set up the baby’s room?”

Akaashi shrugs. From down the hall, he hears his husband yelling at Atsumu to mix the paint. “Koutarou wanted it to be arranged as soon as possible,” he tells him. Yamaguchi takes the seat beside him.

“How does it feel?” the freckled omega asks. “Is it weird?”

“Hm, not really?” Akaashi’s hand unconsciously goes to rub his barely visible bump. It was still too small to be noticed, but it’s there. “At first, it _does_ feel weird, but now? Not so much. I'm starting to get used to it, although the morning sickness definitely still gets on my nerves.”

“Are your cravings that bad?”

“No, actually,” Akaashi lets out a chuckle. “I don’t have any weird cravings, but for some reason I want my husband to always be by my side.”

“That’s probably a boost to Bokuto-san's ego,” Tsukishima deadpans as he walks towards his mate.

Akaashi cannot help but to let out a laugh. “Yeah, it is,” he nods at him. “What about you two? Any plans so far?”

“Ah,” a blush paints Yamaguchi’s face with red. Tsukishima clears his throat and decides that the coffee table is far more interesting than Akaashi’s question. “We’re still, uhm, testing the waters.”

“That’s good!”

Tsukishima spares a quick glance at the older omega, pushing his glasses onto his face. “How did Bokuto-san react?”

Akaashi does not answer immediately. How did Bokuto react? He remembers a flush of tears pouring out the moment he told him that he was pregnant, a flurry of choked sobs and incoherent words that Akaashi later on realized were meant to say “I love you” rather than random words pieced together in a haze. Bokuto made love to him that night, gentle and subtle, yet the sensations were much, much stronger and more prominent that before – like the gentle lapping of waves over the shoreline, or the sounds of leaves rustling under hurried feet – gentle and precise, yet firm enough to grasp and hold.

“Did he cry?” Yamaguchi asks.

Akaashi nods with a faint chuckle. “He did!” he tells them, smiling at the image of his husband, golden eyes wide with glistening tears.

Yamaguchi turns to Tsukishima. “I hope you cry, too,” he grins playfully.

Tsukishima mutters a curse under his breath.

Bokuto finds Akaashi standing in front of a mirror without a t-shirt on during the 11th week.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he approaches his husband carefully, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Akaashi continues to stare at himself on the mirror, his forehead creasing slightly.

“My abs,” he said. “They’re gone.”

Bokuto lowers his gaze onto Akaashi’s stomach. It’s true, his abs are gone now, the faint lines from his muscles now replaced with something much softer. Bokuto lets out a toothy grin, wide eyes gleaming.

“There’s a bump now,” he breathes out, coming up carefully behind his husband and wrapping his hands around his waist. “Ji, there’s a bump now.”

“I know,” Akaashi mutters under his breath, his cheeks now rosy and plump. “I can see it, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto hums and places a small kiss on top of his shoulder. “Our baby is in there...”

“Yeah,” Akaashi mutters. Slowly, he puts a hand on top of his slightly protruding belly, feeling the roundness of his skin against his palm. “It’s really happening, huh? We’re really going to be parents.”

“We are,” Bokuto meets his gaze in the mirror. Akaashi’s striking blue eyes pierced right through him. “We really are.”

“I’m scared,” Akaashi sighs as he continues to rub a hand over his stomach. “What if I don’t become a good parent?”

“You will be. I just know it.”

Akaashi pouts. “You’re only saying that because I’m your husband.”

“I’m saying that because I believe in you, Ji. More than anyone else,” Bokuto tells him. “As long as we’re together, we’ll get through this.”

* * *

At 12 weeks, Akaashi loses the baby.

* * *

It happened when rain first pelted against the window pane, a mirror of the event dating to months before. Where did he go wrong?

Akaashi sighs, rubbing his temples as he propped his elbows onto his desk, the file he’s editing long since forgotten with the heavy feeling of a headache weighing him down. He knows Bokuto’s game is starting soon, and that he should head out to the venue now, but the more he tries to pick himself up from his chair, the more it seems to become harder for him to do so. For the past few days, his morning sickness and constant nausea have finally started to subside as the end of his first trimester starts to near, but it seems as though the symptoms are taking their one last trip to the bathroom before they finally leave him be.

“Are you alright, Akaashi-san?” one of his female co-workers goes up to him, her eyebrows furrowing in slight worry. “You don’t look too good…”

Akaashi tries to smile at her, swallowing thickly. “I’m fine,” he breathes out, his hand going down to rub his stomach in an attempt to steady his breathing. “It’s just a headache.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to get you a glass of water?”

“No need,” he shakes his head. “I still have to go to my husband’s game. I think it’s about to start soon.”

“Ah, yes!” his co-worker exclaims. “Who are the Jackals playing against? Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets? Or is it the Frogs this time?”

“Azuma,” Akaashi tells her. With a heavy sigh, he pushes his eyeglasses onto his nose bridge before slowly leaving his seat, his knees slightly shaking. A drop of cold sweat runs down the side of his head. “Are you going to watch the game as well?”

She shakes her head, her gaze dropping onto Akaashi’s seat. “I’ll watch it on TV—“

Akaashi’s forehead starts to crease as he watches his co-worker’s crestfallen face. “What’s wrong?”

“A-akaashi-san…”

“What is it?”

Shaking, she points at the stain on Akaashi’s office seat. Akaashi turns to look down in it, a frown making its way onto his lips.

Red like the flurry of anger that went through his veins the moment he saw.

Red like the small droplets of rain that seemed to mock him from outside.

Red like the series of _I love you’s_ he has whispered behind closed doors. Like the sound of Bokuto’s laughter under the sheet. The sight of something that is never to be taken back.

Red.

Like the slow and steady beating of their child’s heart; a blurry image that was once presented to them only for their eyes to see. Akaashi still remembers the way tears fell out of his husband’s eyes, the way he whispered _don’t cry_ over and over again against his hair. This is their child. Their whole world.

Red.

The color of grief. The color of fallen smiles and broken hopes. Akaashi hates the color red.

_“Kou…”_

Bokuto stands inside the waiting room, phone pressed against one side of his face, his golden eyes gleaming brightly as he stares at himself in the mirror for the last time before the game starts.

“Ji! Are you outside already? The game is about to start!”

_“No…”_

Bokuto furrows his eyebrows and starts to turn away from his reflection. “What’s wrong?” he asks immediately, noticing his husband’s strained voice. “Where are you?”

 _“Kou…”_ Akaashi’s voice is muffled from the other side of the phone. _“Listen to me, love…”_

“You’re making me nervous, Ji,” Bokuto chuckles. “What’s wrong?”

 _“You have to keep on playing,”_ Akaashi tells him. _“Promise me you’ll keep playing, Kou. Promise me.”_

Bokuto turns around when the door to the waiting room opened. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright? Ji, you’re scaring me.”

 _“Bokuto-san…”_ Akaashi calls out from the other line. _“I lost the baby…”_

Bokuto blinks once. Twice.

Silence.

 _“Kou,”_ Akaashi sounds like he’s already sobbing. “ _Kou you have to keep playing, okay? Promise me. Do it for me, Kou.”_

Silence.

_“I’m sorry, Kou. I’m so sorry…”_

Bokuto sighs, his golden eyes glazed over the wall. “I love you,” he breathes out.

Akaashi ends the call with his sobs echoing through his husband’s ears.

“Bokuto-san!” Atsumu calls to him from the doorway. “The game is about to start!”

Bokuto nods at him, his face nothing but a man of lost souls. “Okay,” he says.

The Downfall of the Ace is how the people called it. The moment Bokuto Koutarou stepped out into the court, they already knew.

All Bokuto could see was the color of the ocean in front of him. Blue is the color of his grief; the color of his own sadness and the feeling of loss reverberating through his entire system as it rapidly swallows him whole. The waves are unrelenting, unapologetic to his demise. He is nothing but a grieving man.

 _Kou, you have to keep playing_.

He fails to score with his first spike.

“Don’t mind!” his teammates shouted from behind him.

_Promise me._

He doesn’t notice the ball coming towards him. He fails to receive.

“Bokuto-san, are you okay?” Atsumu asks him. Goshiki sends them a wary glance from the other side of the court.

Bokuto only nods at him.

_I’m so sorry._

He’s not quick enough to dodge the opponent’s block. The Jackals are starting to lag behind with his missed points. But all he could see are the raging ocean and weeping skies.

_I lost the baby._

“Bokuto, I’m putting you on the bench if you don’t pick yourself together!” their coach barks at him during their second time out. “You’ve been missing your hits since the first set! If you can’t keep up with the team, I’ll have to pull you out!”

“Sorry,” he mutters quietly as he stares at the floor. “But I’m fine. I can still play.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes…”

“We can’t afford to lose another point! Remember that! You’ll be serving next, so make sure you at least get it into the other side of the court! Remember your formation and keep the ball in the air!”

A chorus of _Yes, Coach!_ hung in the air. Sighing, Bokuto makes his way over the court, his hands trembling slightly at his sides.

When you lose someone you love, how do you stop yourself from feeling lost as well? How do you live after that?

He stares at the net once the whistle goes off. He has eight seconds; eight whole seconds before he loses his chance. He lifts the ball above his head, both arms trembling.

Eight.

_Akaashi lost the baby._

Seven.

_He blinks away the tears in his eyes._

Six.

_His arms are still trembling._

Five.

_How does he escape the pain?_

Four.

_He lets the ball fall down from his hand._

Three.

_The court goes silent._

Two.

_Blue like the ocean._

One.

_Akaashi lost the baby._

Bokuto falls down on his knees, his sobs echoing through the court like a spear piercing right through a shield. Tears and sweat ran down his face as he hunched over the floor, his own limbs giving out on him. It hurt all over, but the pain of losing the one he loves with all his heart is more prominent than the shame that is soon to come.

You see him and you see an image of a man who has lost his soul. He is now nothing but a vessel of broken hopes and dreams — a plethora of words left unspoken, of words he wishes he had said before the opportunity had disappeared into thin air.

Akaashi watches it all unfold on the hospital bed, blue eyes trained onto the television inside the hospital room. He does not cry with his husband.

He does not cry at all.

* * *

They don’t speak of it until a week later.

Akaashi has drowned himself under the pile of his work, opting to ignore the inevitable setbacks of his muscarriage rather than facing them head on. Bokuto, on the other hand, received all of the dead weight after being suspended for at least a month. News traveled quickly, of course. They always do. But no one dared to say even a word about it.

Bokuto can smell the faint scent of cinnamon running under his nose. Akaashi is somewhere inside their apartment, but the overall silence that fell over his shoulders seemed to only thicken with each passing second. He knows exactly where his husband is, but he doesn’t think he is quite ready to face him yet.

Sighing, he puts his mug into the sink before making his way along the quiet hallway. His hair now hung past over his eyes, his vision nothing but a blur of black and gray as he trudges along the tiled floor. He walks past their bedroom quietly and only stops when he reaches the front of their old storage room. He stares at the unmoving doorknob,the smell of cinnamon now stronger than before. He knows exactly where Keiji is.

He knocks once. “Akaashi,” he calls out. “Dinner is ready.”

No response. He stares at the doorknob again. “Keiji,” he sighs. “Please come out and eat…”

Still, no response.

With a heavy sigh, he grips the handle with his right hand, twisting it slightly only to realize that the door has always been unlocked this whole time, before pushing it open.

The room is yellow and barely empty. Bokuto takes a careful step inside, his breath hitching at the back of his throat. It smells strongly of cinnamon.

His eyes move onto Akaashi who is sitting on the floor with his knees tucked to his chest.

“Ji…” he calls out to him. “Dinner’s ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Bokuto bites down on his lower lip. “You need to eat—“

“I said I’m not hungry.”

Bokuto lowers his gaze onto the floor and continues to stand by the doorway. _Why are you like this?,_ he wants to ask, _you’re not the only one who’s suffering._

He walks over to Akaashi quietly, his feet barely making any sound across the floor as he takes a seat beside his husband, their backs leaning against the yellow wall behind them. Bokuto keeps his eyes forward, golden ones lost and empty.

“I…” Akaashi opens his mouth, his lower lip trembling. Blue eyes continue to look everywhere and nowhere all at once. “I did everything I could, Kou…”

Bokuto nods. “I know.”

“I… I did nothing wrong,” Akaashi whispers. “It just happened, and I didn’t even realize that it was already happening! I did everything I could!”

“I know, Ji…”

“I didn’t mean to lose our baby…” Akaashi starts to sob. Big tears cascaded down the corners of his face and down to his chin. “I did everything I could…”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi buries his face into his knees. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bokuto repeats, chanting the mantra in his head over and over again, praying to the gods to make Akaashi understand. To make them understand that none of them are at fault.

“It hurts, Kou,” Akaashi continues to sob all while his husband blankly stares at the yellow walls in front of them.

The room is small and bright, and it was supposed to be filled with a crib and a cabinet and a small rocking chair for when Akaashi is to feed their baby. They were supposed to paint it with blue stars and white clouds, and they were supposed to buy one of those star light projectors to complete the room. They were supposed to go shopping for clothes together, and Akaashi was supposed to buy the very first baby clothes he saw during his short trip to the mall. Bokuto was supposed to assemble the baby crib they were planning on buying at that one second hand store near their apartment, and they were supposed to paint it a shade of blue similar to Akaashi’s eyes. Bokuto had planned on taking a leave from his work to focus on taking care of Akaashi; he was supposed to go with his husband for his appointments, and they were supposed to enroll in pre-natal classes during the third trimester and do activities together while waiting for the baby. They were supposed to do all of that and many more.

Akaashi hurts thinking of how he wouldn’t be able to feel his baby’s kicks now that they’re gone. He wanted to feel himself grow, to see himself grow. He wanted to experience the joys of parenthood, of being able to hold their child for the first time despite the pain. He wants to know how his child would have looked, if their eyes are gold just like Bokuto’s, if their hair is just as thick as Bokuto’s, or as dark as his own hair. Would they have loved Akaashi the way he loves them?

“I wanted…” Bokuto trails off. He lifts his hand in front of him, golden eyes staring at his fingers. “I wanted to hold their hands, Ji. I wanted to see them wrap their small fingers around mine…” he continues to stare at his own hand, eyebrows knitted together as tears start to pool around his bloodshot eyes. Akaashi continues to cry beside him. “I wanted to see if they have your blue eyes, or your dark hair. I wanted to see how they would be like growing up, if they would be more like you, because that way it would be better. Because you’ve always been braver than me, more resilient than me. I wanted to see if they would inherit almost everything from you, because I know that if they do, then they’re already bound to be great. But it seems like… It seems like we can’t have it all, can we?”

Akaashi can feel his resolve crumbling. “I want…” he chokes out, “to have a baby…”

A lone tear falls from Bokuto’s eye.

In a sea of what if’s and endless possibilities, where does one place himself in a matter like this?

“Keiji…”

“I want a family just as much as you do, Kou,” Akaashi sobs. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to give you that.”

Bokuto closes his eyes and buries his head into his knees, trying to keep his sobs from coming out.

He stays quiet when Akaashi leaves the room.

* * *

Bokuto sits at the edge of their bed, fingers trembling uncontrollably on his lap. How did they come to this?

 _What about me?_ , he thinks to himself.

He stares at the already signed divorce papers in his hands. The raging waves of the oceans are now more painful than ever.

He wishes to see _his_ ocean eyes one last time.

**Author's Note:**

> it’s done! that was a but difficult for me to write haha! i didn’t know which ending i was supposed to do but i knew that i wanted it to hurt a bit, hence, why it turned out that way! 
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
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